Musings
by FarAnya
Summary: Nikita does some remembering as she keeps vigil by Michael's bedside at the end of "Not Was." Lots of spoilers for season 1 and 2.


var yviContents='http://us.toto.geo.yahoo.com/toto?s=76001089yviR='us';yfiEA(0); Musings MUSINGS 

_written by [Martha, Codename Anya][1]_

Author's Disclaimer: Michael and Nikita belong to LFN Productions. They are being used without permission, but no copyright infringement is intended. 

The following is a character study set during the events of Not Was, and is, essentially, a spoiler for the episode. Most of the dialogue (and a fair amount of the action) here are taken directly from that episode, too. There are also spoilers for War, Brainwash, Hard Landing, Spec Ops, Third Person, Approaching Zero, New Regime, Mandatory Refusal, Half Life, and Darkness Visible. Thanks to the writers of these episodes for letting me borrow their characters, words and actions. 

What is it that attracts me to you? The real Michael would disgust me, I'm sure. The words seemed to circle in her brain endlessly. Nikita wasn't even sure if it was true anymore -- what she had told him during their escape from Red Cell. She had tried to keep her distance from him since then. It hadn't been easy, though. He hadn't let it be easy. 

She had barely recovered from her injuries and returned to active status when the phasing shell had been brought in. Michael had found her, after the mission debriefing, trying to destroy the device. She had turned to him in tears, asking, "What have I done?" He had moved slowly toward her, trying to calm her. In her fear, she had wailed, "What have I done?" Michael had gently taken her hand and said, "We'll get you through this, Nikita." And he had. Michael, Walter and Birkoff had worked diligently to help heal her mind, all the while hiding from Operations and Madeline how deeply the shell had really affected her. She had had regular sessions with Madeline, but it had been her 'sessions' with Michael that had pulled her through. 

The real Michael would disgust me. Nikita was beginning to doubt the accuracy of that statement. After she had refused to kill Shays in cold blood, Michael had covered for her... again. I think I knew that he hadn't been able to convince Operations that I hadn't had the time to cancel Shays when Madeline said I'd never be free from the Section. God, she was brutal. Honest, but brutal nonetheless. But she was sorry, too. Nikita had seen it in Madeline's eyes, in the tilt of her head. Madeline must have known that Nikita was considering putting an end to it all. I wonder if she sent Michael? He never said, but the timing was too coincidental. 

Nikita had been so close to committing suicide when Michael came to her apartment that afternoon to 'talk.' I was right when I told him that he cared more than I did about staying alive. I never wanted his protection. I only wanted what he couldn't give me... my freedom and his love. 

But he had set her free. Risking his own standing in Section, Michael had helped her escape from the suicide mission. For six months she ignored the messages on her PDA, Michael's increasingly insistent question, "Nikita, are you there?" That had been so hard. How many times did I almost pick up the PDA and answer him? But I couldn't be sure if a message could be traced back to my location. 

But then the Freedom League had captured her. She knew that the Freedom League leader was aware that Section had intel about their plan to kidnap an engineer with security clearances at a nuclear research lab in France. She had heard them planning to ambush the Section team. She had managed to escape the day, with that knowledge, before Section moved in on the League's headquarters. But instead of running like her brain told her to, she'd had a gut feeling that Michael would be in on this mission, and she couldn't resist the urgings of her heart to stay nearby. He might need her help. 

It was a good thing I stayed, she remembered. She had been able to save his life. Her only regret -- if you could call it a regret -- was that now he knew without question, she was alive. How long did we stand there staring at each other? Time seemed to stand still and collapse in on itself in that moment we shared. Their eyes spoke every word they had never dared to utter. When she had heard the voices, the spell had been broken. Then she had disappeared again. 

But he had sent the message to her PDA -- one more time... 'Nikita, are you there?' And this time, she had answered. She had told him where she was hiding and once passed the wonder... and anger... they had shared a night of absolute bliss on that abandoned ship. He had confessed then how much he needed her. I should have felt vindicated, but I couldn't. I knew ours would never be an easy relationship. If I hadn't realized that being out of Section wasn't the same as being free... and that no matter where I went, my dreams and fantasies would always center on Michael... I might not have gone back in. She had discovered that he filled a hole in her soul she hadn't realized was there. 

Then had come her 'retraining' with Jurgen. Talk about mind games!!! When she had first learned she had been assigned to Jurgen and not Michael she had been disappointed. But that was before she had realized how ... jealous ... Michael could be. That was the only word for his behavior. It was almost funny; how easy it was to provoke Michael to something as close to rage as he probably ever permitted himself to show. His attitude toward her relationship with Jurgen had really irritated her. He tried to masked it in his concern for her standing with Section, but Nikita thought she saw through the cracks in his facade. Between the two of them, Michael and Jurgen almost got her killed -- literally! They weren't content to beat each other to bloody pulps... Oh no, they had had to play 'king of the hill' -- and she had been the hill! 

Then had come their ultimate power play. She hadn't discovered until after Jurgen died that Operations had ordered Michael to use her in their effort to destroy the evidence Jurgen had held over Section; blackmail that had allowed him to live free of Section surveillance. Oh, she had envied him that freedom. That is, until she understood how that freedom had been gained. But still, it had taken her a long time to get past the way she had been used to bring Jurgen down. 

After that had come Petrosian and the battle for control of Section One. I think it was then, that I truly realized that Section had become my family; Michael, Birkoff, Walter, Madeline... even Operations, she thought wryly. She had wanted to believe that Petrosian would make a better Section head. Not because he had promoted her to second-in-command, but because he wasn't devious. Yeah, right! That was before I knew that Petrosian had masterminded the attack on Operations and that he was going to use me to finish him off! When I told Petrosian that the syringe he had taken from me and jabbed into Operations contained nothing but vitamin B-12 ... I understood then how much these people meant to me. They could, and probably would, still use me and make me crazy, but that's what families do best, isn't it? 

When Dorian Enquist had kidnapped Madeline, that feeling of family had been reinforced. Operations had been so blinded by his need to retrieve Madeline at all costs, he couldn't see -- or care -- that Michael was going to one of those "costs." Nikita had known instinctively that there had to be a way to save both Madeline and Michael. So she had done an end run around Operations, acted autonomously and managed to do just that. And managed to get chewed out for my efforts, too! Nikita also finally understood what Michael meant when he told her that he couldn't allow her to become his weakness. She had seen, first-hand, how Section had almost sacrificed its best operative -- all for the sake of emotions. 

During the mission to bring down Radovan Luka in the Balkans, she had glimpsed fragments of Michael's inner self, which she hadn't really noticed before. He had tried so hard to be inflexible, but Nikita's soft spot for children was apparently beginning to rub off on him. Even now, months later, Nikita couldn't believe he would have actually gone off and left Peter and Sasha standing in that street... even if I hadn't been sitting there glaring at him. Something about those children triggered something in Michael. I wonder... I'm not sure, but I think Sasha would be about the age of Michael's son, maybe a little older. Perhaps that was it, she thought. Instead Michael had completely surprised her by taking valuable time to search for the children's parents after Luka was dead, time they discovered later that they didn't have. He had been so supportive in trying to get the whole family across the border. 

Then Michael had come face to face with his past and she had seen even more ruptures in his armor. She had tried to go by the 'book' on this, to be as tough as nails and callused toward Michael's apparent protection of his one-time friend, René Dion. But her hard-heartedness had lasted only until Michael's desperate phone call in the wee hours of the morning. When he told her how René had taken in and provided for his sister after Michael's 'death' in prison, Nikita knew that he had opened up a part of his soul to her -- so that she might understand, in part, why he had done what he had done to protect René. I think that's only the second time I've ever seen him so close to tears, she realized. Of course she hadn't known that soon he would come even closer and that it would be her gun that would be the instrument to bring them so perilously close to falling. 

After that, she and Michael had gone through some rough times again. Nikita remembered all the petty little details of their contentious behavior about Vizcano. As she looked back on the whole episode of leading her first mission, Nikita realized that her own behavior had been every bit as bad as Michael's. She should have accepted his help after the primary mission failed. Maybe then Vizcano would still be alive. She had almost gone ballistic when Operations told her Sparks had been released. I think, if Michael had tried to stop me for any reason, I'd have lost it and we'd probably both be dead! I'd have killed him with my bare hands and Operations would have cancelled me on the spot! she decided. It had taken several strenuous workouts and sessions with Madeline to rid herself of the anger and frustration towards Michael -- and herself. 

Before they had gone undercover to bring down Joaquin Armel, she thought she knew Michael fairly well. But during the mission she had begun to see Michael in a whole new light. Both he and Madeline had been concerned about how she would take the assignment, exploiting a man's grief to bring him to justice. Michael had been so gentle and loving, so protective. Really, it had been a wonderful time, forgetting for long periods that they had any other responsibilities beyond the daily normalcy of life in the suburbs. 

They had even engaged in, to quote Madeline, 'intimate relations.' Nikita had felt a little odd, initiating the lovemaking, knowing that not only was Armel watching, but that Section was too. She also had known intuitively that Madeline hadn't said anything about Armel's suspicions about them to Michael, so it had amazed her that he hadn't rebuffed her. After all, she had thwarted his amorous ventures more than once during the early days of the mission, thinking that it was another test Section was conducting on her emotional endurance. 

It had been incredible how tender Michael had been. Even the next morning he had tried to hide how conflicted he was feeling. 'It was a mistake.' she remembered him saying. I knew what he meant, too. Making love hadn't been a very good idea... emotionally speaking. But the experience itself was... extraordinary. But Michael had been adept at covering his real meaning with one both sets of listeners would understand and accept. And he let me explain to him, what I needed... not his support necessarily, although that would be nice... I expected his love... no... needed his love. And I came as close as I'll probably ever come to actually hearing those three simple words from him and knowing that he really meant them. 

But he had said those words to her though, just two days ago. And he had meant them with all his heart. The only problem was that Michael couldn't remember who he was. He'd been captured trying to free her during their mission in Amsterdam. His captors, lead by a man named Perez, had injected him with some psychotropic drug designed to erase the Section-imposed blocks on his memory. When the rescue attempt began, he had been on the verge of telling his captors everything about Section One. Unfortunately for Michael, when they fled, they left him hooked up to the mind-altering drug. 

When Nikita had reached him, his memory was gone. It was daunting to have to lead him like a child through the firefight to safety. Then to somehow get him by Operations' eagle eye. But she had managed, and had managed to get him out of Section to her apartment. He had been so trusting. She could have told him anything. 

'Do I have any friends?' he asked me. And what could I tell him but 'I don't know. I don't really know that much about you.' My God! What kind of answer is that? I've known him for three years and I couldn't tell him if he had any friends! The frustration of it circled her mind thousands of times. He even tried to take the blame when I couldn't explain why I didn't know. 'I must be a real jerk,' he'd said. He can't remember who he is and yet he still covers for me! she marveled. I'm so glad I could honestly assure him -- to tell him that I'm really very fond of him. I meant... mean... it, too. He looked so lost and afraid. 

He hadn't realized what he was up against... psych re-evaluations, retraining, possible cancellation... if his memory didn't return. She had had to look into those confused, luminous green eyes and tell him point blank, 'They'll kill you.' It made her blood run cold just thinking about it again. She remembered his terror-stricken face; 'I'll never be treated like... like a caged animal.' My words coming from his mouth. I wanted nothing so much as to be able to comfort him then. 

Later, as she was taking a sample of his blood, he had surprised her when he said that she was a good friend. She'd always wanted to be his friend. But it wasn't allowed. 'Didn't I ever tell you things like that?' he asked me. I could tell by the look on his face he had no concept of what our lives are really like. Then while they were dancing and he started to kiss her, she had had to call on every ounce of emotional strength she had to ask him to stop. 'Because this is not who you really are,' I said. Not who you really are. How in hell's name do I know who he really is? All I know of him I've learned through the Section! she raged in her heart. She had been so relieved when his cell phone rang. Anything to be out of the arms she had always longed to have wrapped around her. 

She'd had to take Walter into their confidence. He was the only one she could trust to discover if there was an antidote to the drug Michael had been given. When he had asked whose blood the sample contained, she'd tried to prevaricate. But Walter insisted he needed to know, so she had finally stammered, 'M- Michael's.' Comprehension hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd been in Section long enough to know what would happen to Michael if his memory didn't return. No words passed between them, just their pledge to each other that they would do everything... no anything... necessary to protect Michael. 

Michael had panicked when he had been called back into the Section. It had taken all her persuasiveness to assure him that he could do the job Operations was demanding he do... locate and take out the terrorists who had captured him. 'I can't do this, Nikita,' he had insisted. 'I gotta get outa here.' And I had to tell him he'd never get away, that they'd find him, she reflected. He'd been so scared. She could see it in his eyes, tell it by the fact he couldn't stand still. 'You told me they were gonna kill me anyway. I've got nothing to loose,' he'd said. As he turned away from me, I said 'I do.' I know it was selfish, but it was the only thing I could think of to stop him. Two little words, but I meant them with all my heart. If I lost him now, my life would be worthless. 

Somehow he had proceeded with the mission, not understanding why he did the things he was ordered to do. She'd tried to explain what was happening via a comlink set for her frequency, but in his confusion the profile had been compromised and aborted. Shooting erupted in the club where he had been sent to locate Perez and Michael had been shot. Nikita had raced inside and snagged Perez as he tried to escape with a bodyguard. She'd passed Perez off to another operative and bolted for Michael. She'd managed to get him up and out to the van. Then it had been a race to get him back to Section's MedLab. He'd gone straight to surgery and Nikita had gone straight to Walter. 

Walter hadn't failed them. He'd found an antidote... hopefully. Nikita had asked about its effectiveness and Walter had been blunt. 'I don't know,' he'd said and then he had warned her that Madeline was growing suspicious. I could have cried when he told me that. That and the fact that the antidote had to saturate Michael's system for at least eight hours. How on earth would we be able to hold Madeline and Operations at bay for eight hours? She'd hurried to Michael's bed in the MedLab's SICU area when he came out of surgery and had asked the nurse to leave. For a moment all she could do was to look lovingly down on the sleeping face she'd grown to love, wondering which Michael would wake. 

He woke at her gentle touch on his cheek. She could tell by the slight grin he gave her that although he recognized her, he still didn't know who he was. He had asked her, 'And they still don't know?' Like him, I found it hard to believe that Madeline hadn't made a beeline for him if she any suspicion of what had happened to him. Michael's faith in me shook me to the very center of my being. He asked me, 'Is it gonna work?' looking at me, his eyes so full of trust. I couldn't lie to him. I told him exactly what Walter had told me... 'I don't know.' 

As she'd injected the antidote into his drip bag, he looked back at her and said, 'Have I ever told you that I love you?' I couldn't help myself; my heart ached for him. I wanted him to be free from Madeline's and Operations' scrutiny, but, damn, it just wasn't fair that this gentle soul had to be sacrificed in order for the physical being to live. I had to think about his question. Had he ever told me he loved me? 'Actually, no,' I said, a little surprised myself. 'I do,' he said, loosing me in his silver-green eyes. Blinking hard to clear the tears from her own sky-blue eyes, she'd allowed a faint smile to tease the corners of her mouth and then she'd lifted his hand from the bed and kissed it. Unable to say anything more, she'd turned and walked out of the SICU area, leaving him to sleep and recover. 

No, the more I think about it, the more I'm sure the 'real' Michael would not disgust me, she mused, sitting on the partition at the foot of his bed in the SICU. She'd come back to keep vigil while he was vulnerable, praying that the antidote would restore his memory. She checked her watch. It's been almost eight hours since I gave it to him. He stirred and immediately she came to his side. Now, she would know. 

"How do you feel?" she asked. 

He tried to sit and was stopped by the pain. "I've been shot?" 

Nikita realized that although his memory had returned, he had no recollection of the last three days. "Something happened, Michael. You were grabbed in Amsterdam and taken to Perez. He did something to your memory. You haven't been able to remember who you were for the last three days," she explained. 

With his eyes locked on hers, he asked, "Do they know?" 

"No, I protected you," she admitted. 

Her heart wrenched as he continued to gaze at her and said, "Thank you." 

With a slight, almost sorrowful, smile, she realized that she was stroking his hand where she had kissed it hours earlier. That had been a different Michael than the Michael that now lay without moving beside her. She released his hand, stood and with a final smile, she left him to his own musings. 

THE END 

_written by [Martha, Codename Anya][1]_

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